


It's Been A Long Long Time

by charliescastiel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Remembers, Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Recovered Memories, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7208576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliescastiel/pseuds/charliescastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's always music playing in Steve's apartment. Sometimes that music triggers Bucky's memories. </p>
<p>In which Bucky remembers that he used to dance with Steve in their Brooklyn apartment and a few other things too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Been A Long Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece about Steve and Bucky so it's probably a total disaster characterisation wise, but I've fallen so hard and so fast for these guys that I couldn't help myself when the inspiration was so strong. 
> 
> For those of you who care about historical accuracy, the song that triggers Bucky's memory is 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square' by Vera Lynn (1940). (listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xTeiYN_Vq6E) It's such a beautiful song and it moves me to tears almost every time I listen to it.
> 
> For those of you who don't mind about that sort of thing, the actual inspiration for this fic came from the song 'It's Been A Long Long Time' by Kitty Kallen (1945). (listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rkeh50Nig5U) It features in Captain America: The Winter Soldier and I think is such an absolutely perfect stevebucky song as its about seeing your loved one for the first time when they return from war though technically it wasn't released until after Steve put the Valkyrie in the water so I've offered an alternative.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this, please leave feedback if you enjoy it, it's the best way I can improve. I have a few other ideas on the go for this pairing so look out for those too. Have a wonderful day my pals.

Steve has a different playlist for every decade. Most of the songs from the decades he missed whilst in the ice are built from recommendations of The Avengers mixed with songs he's heard whilst out and about that he thinks are catchy. His favourite playlists though, are the ones from when he was growing up in Brooklyn, living with Bucky and fighting on the battlefield during wartime. 

It’s still an odd luxury to him that music is so readily available and that those tracks are there forever. That he can listen to his favourite songs over and over again until he knows the notes of every minute instrument. Steve’s apartment usually has some form of music playing throughout the day, sometimes quietly whilst he is reading history books on the couch or catching up on case files sent his way anonymously by Nick, or louder in the evenings whilst he’s cooking or exercising. 

When Bucky moved in a few months after the Potomac incident he found the constant hum of music jarring. Sometimes Steve plays the same songs over and over and Bucky likes the familiarity, even starts learning the words to a few of them. But sometimes Steve could go a whole week without playing the same song twice because there’s just so much music and Steve wants to listen to everything he possibly can as if it can make up for the decades he lost. 

Most of the time Bucky enjoys the consistent murmur of background songs that fill the room as they sit in a companionable silence, but some days, on his bad days, the songs trigger memories powerful enough to render him writhing on the floor. Steve would startle and turn the music off immediately and run over to Bucky, holding him tight and apologising in his ear over and over until he stopped shaking and crying. 

The songs that could trigger him are completely unpredictable and inconsistent. Sometimes it could be a random 90s one hit wonder that Bucky had heard on the radio during one of his missions as the Winter Soldier, an otherwise upbeat melody dragging him down into an abyss of screams, blood and numbness. Sometimes it could be Madonna. 

After this has happened a few times, Steve suggests that he just leave the music off completely, that it wasn't necessary if it caused Bucky so much grief. Bucky got upset and they fought about it. It seemed such a silly thing to get worked up over, but he knew how important music was to Steve and he didn't want to be the cause of yet another thing Steve couldn't do because Bucky couldn't handle it. It was only music, after all. 

 

And besides, it wasn't always bad memories.

 

On one particularly uneventful day, Steve and Bucky are sitting on the couch, Bucky with his feet on the coffee table and Steve with his feet in Bucky’s lap. Bucky is resting a book on Steve’s legs, he’s reading intently, his brow furrowed in a way that Steve has come to recognise means he’s processing a particularly emotional moment in the book. It’s the final one in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. He started the first one that same morning and has barely said a word the entire day. He’s using his flesh hand to rub up and down Steve’s legs in soft, comforting lines. 

Steve is also reading, but his lot is much less captivating. He’s been reading the same paragraph of this case file that Nick sent him over and over for at least the past ten minutes, possibly longer. It’s not that Bucky is ruining his focus, but he is much more interesting. Steve watches him over the top of the case file in a way he thinks is discreet, but knows from the slight lift of Bucky’s mouth that he’s aware he’s being watched. It doesn’t stop Steve from watching, though. He feels like he could stare at Bucky for the rest of his life and never get fed up, hopes that now he has Bucky back he will get to. 

In the first few months Steve couldn’t take his eyes of him because he was so afraid that if he did, Bucky would disappear faster than a blink. After a few months passed and Steve began to settle in the knowledge that Bucky was back for good, Steve started to gaze at Bucky as if he was trying to commit every detail; every blemish, every pore, every line to memory, even though the serum gave him a perfectly flawless memory anyway.

Steve tried his hardest to be subtle, but given Bucky’s enhanced reflexes and awareness of his surroundings, it was near impossible. He never said anything though, only blushed a very beautiful shade of pink, and Steve thought it was worth the embarrassment of being caught. 

In the present, the music is on low, the sounds of Steve’s 1940s playlist that he built entirely from memory and a helpful app called shazam that Sam introduced him to filling the apartment at the rare request of Bucky himself. Bucky doesn't ever choose the music, he leaves it to Steve, so when Bucky asked this afternoon if they could put on the ‘Brooklyn Playlist’ instead of the early 70s one he was originally planning on, it made Steve’s heart skip a beat as he muttered a breathless “sure Buck”. 

The upbeat jazzy song that's currently playing draws to a close and changes into something slower and more powerful. After a few notes Steve feels more than sees Bucky stiffen under him. Steve tries not to panic, they’d been having such a perfect day and he’d actually forgotten the possibility of this happening for a while. Steve remains as still as he can, watching Bucky’s face now for signs of torment or aggression. Instead what grows on Bucky’s face is pain of a different kind, more like heartache and nostalgia. Steve closes the file and places it gently on the coffee table so as not to spook Bucky. 

He sits up slowly. Bucky’s brow is furrowed as he squints his eyes in concentration, as if he’s trying to grasp at the memory. The movement of Bucky's hand on Steve’s legs has stopped, but he can still feel the weight of Bucky’s arm against them. “Bucky?” He asks softly.

Bucky flinches slightly, his grip on Steve’s leg tightening a little. He turns his head towards Steve and there are tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 

“Steve.” He pauses. “We used to-” Bucky starts but doesn’t finish, his eyes glazing over, caught in the memory again.

Steve feels something like hope begin to grow in his chest. It’s a nervous hope but he doesn’t feel the heavy dread he does when he knows it’s one of the Winter Soldier’s memories about to surface. He stays silent and waits for Bucky to speak or move or do anything. 

Bucky blinks back to the present. He seems to be trying to tell Steve something with simply his eyes, words escaping him. The only sound apart from their deep breathing is the song that continues to play. Then it clicks and Steve knows what to do because he remembers this song. He remembers it so well. 

He removes his legs from Bucky’s lap and stands, taking a deep breath before extending his hand to Bucky’s, his palm up. Bucky stares at Steve’s hand then looks up to his face which he knows is a mess of hopeful anticipation and unabashed longing. After a long moment, Bucky slides his flesh hand around Steve’s interlocking their fingers tightly and allows himself to be pulled up. 

Steve pulls him close and guides Bucky’s other arm to his waist. His metal fingers curl tightly around the fabric of Steve’s shirt. He’s so warm and firm and real. Steve runs his now free hand up Bucky’s arm until he reaches his shoulder.  They start to sway slowly and after a few beats Steve feels Bucky relax against him completely as if it's the safest place in the world. 

Bucky buries his face in Steve’s neck and Steve leans his cheek on Bucky’s hair and nuzzles slightly. It’s the wrong way around Steve knows, when they used to dance like this back in Brooklyn Steve was always the one with his face against Bucky’s shoulder, but it doesn’t seem to matter because when his eyes slip shut it’s like he’s back in their dingy, cold apartment circa 1939 and all they have is each other but it's more than enough.

Bucky curls his arm tighter around Steve’s back, pulling him close until he can’t tell where he ends and Steve begins. Steve responds by flattening his palm against Bucky’s shoulder blade and Bucky can feel the heat sink through him at every fingertip.

The memory is overwhelming, it consumes every sense and he feels his legs threaten to give out from under him at any moment. He fights to hold on though, because even though it’s suffocating, he hasn’t felt as alive as this since that day he fell from the train. 

Steve smells different, he uses much better health products now than in the 40s. But underneath the cologne and the shampoo is something that is the same as Bucky remembers. It's so quintessentially Steve that it almost knocks Bucky off his feet and seventy years into the past. Steve feels different too, much larger and taller and firmer than the Steve he danced with in that Brooklyn apartment that he can see and feel and smell as if he's actually there. He hasn't remembered this smaller Steve much before, but he doesn't feel completely unfamiliar. He gets hit with more memories of dancing in quick succession then, memories of dancing with Steve in their tent during wartime once all the other Howling Commandos were asleep. Steve was bigger then and Bucky still wasn’t used to it, still didn’t know what to make of it and he remembers so vividly that Steve let him take the lead even though he was taller than Bucky now because Bucky had always led and whilst he was the one to follow Captain America on the battlefield, on the dancefloor, it was always Steve who followed Bucky.

Bucky smiles into Steve’s neck at that memory and Steve squeezes his hand. They continue to sway. He thinks the song must have changed by now, but he doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop holding Steve. He wants to stay like this forever in Steve’s arms, his only worry not accidentally stepping on Steve’s toes. He hears Steve sigh against him and wonders if he's thinking the same thing. 

He begins to lose track of time as the songs begin to blur into one long melody of his old life. After a long while Bucky pulls back to look at Steve, as if checking that he's still real. His eyes are red and his cheeks look puffy, it twists Bucky’s heart up in a way he doesn't like. He moves his hand from the small of Steve’s back up to his cheek to wipe away the stray tears. He tries to pull his hand back when he realises he used hard metal instead of soft warm flesh but Steve grabs his wrist and keeps his hand there, turning in the palm so it's flat against his cheek. His eyes slip closed and he nuzzles Bucky’s hand as he’s left watching. 

“Missed this so much.” Steve mutters, brow creasing as if it slipped out by accident but he doesn't want to take it back. 

Bucky finds his mouth tilting up as he looks into Steve’s eyes. Steve is close, so close that Bucky can feel the ghost of his breath against his cheek. He gets hit with another memory- no, multiple memories and his legs waver. Steve’s hand flies to his waist and he grips him tightly to hold him up. He looks worried and panicked but Bucky can't really see properly because his vision is overwhelmed with a different Steve, the smaller Steve who can’t have weighed more than 90lbs and who looked like he would snap like a twig in a light breeze. Small Steve’s hair hangs over his forehead and Bucky is struck with the image of him brushing it constantly up and away from his face, and knows that it would fall right back down a minute later. He remembers thinking Steve should just get a haircut, or some stronger hair product, but Steve never listened. He’s lost in the memories of this small Steve, whose clothes never fit him properly, which hung off him in awkward and unflattering angles, he remembers thinking it was adorable. He remembers patching his dumb ass up every time and making sure their ma’s never found out when he got into fights he had no chance of winning, because he couldn’t stand bullies. He remembers this small Steve’s relentless stubborn attitude to doing more than he was able to, working himself to the bone until he physically couldn’t get out of bed because he’d made himself so sick. He remembers those long nights worrying that Steve’s fever might never break and he might never wake up and he was so damn stupid and selfish he should have worn an extra layer of clothing when he went outside, should have taken Bucky’s coat like he offered, should have kept his mouth shut and not provoked that 200lb tank of a man into punching his lights out in the back of yet another alley.

Accompanied with these memories is a feeling so strong it knocks Bucky’s breath straight out of him: he wanted to protect this Steve with his life, did protect him with his life. Bucky knows in that moment that he would have- would still do anything to keep Steve safe. Small Steve or the taller, firmer Steve currently holding him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. Bucky knows in that moment that he was in love with this small Steve, that even in the long torturous years where he couldn’t remember his own name or who he was, that love lay dormant, as if waiting for the moment Steve would find him and bring him home, as if he always knew he would. Bucky knows in that moment that’s why he failed his mission.

He feels a pang in his chest. A pang of nostalgia, of regret, of longing. He feels a chill sweep his body when he realises that with the revelation of these memories there’s one very crucial piece missing from all of them. Steve never knew Bucky was in love with him. Bucky never told him. 

Bucky’s knees feel weak again. Somewhere he is aware that Steve is whispering his name with growing concern. He grips Steve tighter and pulls himself out of the memories, dragging his eyes up to meet Steve’s.

Bucky clears his throat and shifts his weight. “There's… something else…” He trails off, he can't find the right words to tell Steve, tell him everything that just happened. 

When Steve’s eyes turn wide and hopeful, Bucky thinks he might already know. His gaze flickers rapidly between his eyes and his parted lips. He hears Steve’s sharp intake of breath, unable to tear his eyes away when Steve darts his tongue out to lick his lips. 

He realises that this is one of those make or break moments. Bucky knows whatever happens, the next few minutes will be life changing and it makes his stomach do a nervous flip. The atmosphere surrounding them is intense and charged and almost suffocating. He resists the urge to run his hand through his hair, he resists any urge to move lest he break the spell of this fragile thing. 

Steve looks like he wants to close the gap between them, not that there really is a gap at this point, but his face is a mix of expressions that change so fast Bucky doesn't know how to keep up. He looks conflicted and pained, as if he's not allowed to do this, not allowed to want this. As if his own desires will ruin him if he can't keep in control. There is so much damn longing in his eyes that Bucky has to look away, as if he's been suffering with the pain of not being able to do this for decades, maybe he has. Bucky knows the fragments of himself that return to him definitely felt that way. The thought churns Bucky’s stomach in that uncomfortable way again. Not anymore.

Bucky takes a deep breath and pushes forward before he can talk himself out of it. His eyes slip closed as his lips meet Steve’s in an awkward clash of teeth and tongue and it’s the best thing Bucky’s ever felt. He hears Steve’s noise of surprise, feels him go still under him and worries only for a second before Steve starts to kiss back. The relief that floods him spurs him on and he grabs a handful of Steve’s shirt and pulls him until their bodies are flush. Steve’s mouth falls open at that, he breathes hard and fast between each kiss as if now he’s started he never wants to stop. Bucky can relate. 

“Buck.” Steve says against Bucky’s lips and he feels the vibrations as his voice cracks around the name. Steve brings his hands up to cup each side of Bucky’s jaw, stroking the hair behind his ears as he tilt’s Bucky’s chin up for better access. Bucky practically melts under him, at least it feels that way. He can feel his skin burning up at his body's every point of contact with Steve, as if his touch sparks tiny fires at every nerve ending. 

He pushes Steve backwards until they hit the wall but Steve never stops kissing him, never takes his hands away from Bucky’s face and he can’t get enough of it. Steve pulls back and Bucky moans the loss until Steve ducks his head to nip at Bucky’s neck with light teasing bites. Bucky moans again, this time in pleasure and Steve flips them so Bucky’s back is pressed against the wall and pushes a leg between Bucky’s as if he could crawl within him. Steve starts to suck harder, brushing his tongue over each mark he leaves as if it should soothe instead of setting him alight and Bucky tilts his face away to expose his neck to Steve fully.

He runs his hands up Steve’s back until they tangle in the short hairs at the back of his head. He gasps heavily for breath as Steve sucks a particularly large bruise into his neck and then it’s too overwhelming and Bucky tugs at Steve, bringing him back up towards his mouth and Steve is kissing him with a renewed intensity and passion. Bucky reluctantly breaks the kiss, leaning his head against the wall to catch his breath. Steve’s eyes are full of something Bucky can’t name, is too afraid to name because it’s too much to accept right now. Steve’s blushing a very bright red all the way from his cheekbones down to his neck and beyond past his shirt collar and hell if it isn’t the prettiest thing Bucky’s ever seen. A dazed laugh escapes Bucky and Steve blushes harder, looking down and away, his lips twitching.

After a moment, Bucky speaks, “did you always know?” 

Steve seems startled by the question but seems to know what Bucky is asking. He bites his now kiss swollen lips as he considers his answer. “No. I mean- no. I always hoped I wasn’t imagining it when you looked at me that way, or when your hands lingered on mine for a moment longer than appropriate, or when you blew off a date with a dame to spend the night with me instead.” He pauses. “I clung to those moments like a lifeline in the hope that you might feel the same way.” 

Bucky pushes down the wave of sorrow that washes over him. “I’m sorry I never told you.” 

Steve huffs out a laugh. “Don’t be sorry, Buck. All that matters is now. And I’m yours, if you still want me.” 

Bucky chokes out a breath. “I do Steve, I always will.” He pauses, remembering something about lines and ending. He thinks it's something they used to say it to each other a lot when times got hard but he can’t remember the exact phrasing. A flash and he’s remembering that day on the Helicarrier just before Steve fell, after Bucky nearly- he squeezes his eyes shut and pushes down the guilt and shame and tries to focus on the shapes Steve’s mouth is making in the memory, tries to hear him say the words. He needs to hear them. He watches Steve’s beaten and broken face, the fight drained from his eyes as he mutters the words and then Bucky finally hears. In the present he speaks them back to Steve with a shaky voice, hoping it’s the right thing to say, that it encapsulates the promise and the apology and the hope he wills into it. “‘Til the end of the line right?”

Steve huffs a broken sob and for a moment Bucky wants to take it back. He watches the way Steve’s eyes well up and can’t stand it. But then Steve is drawing him into another kiss, this one soft, so soft yet fiercely tender and Bucky knows he said the right thing. Steve breaks away just as quickly as he’d leaned in, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist and turning his head to nuzzle his cheek against Bucky’s as he whispers just loud enough to be heard, “‘til the end of the line.”

**Author's Note:**

> yes i ended it with the most cliché line ever, so fight me it felt right.


End file.
